


Fraction of a Second

by HoneyButterYum



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Body Worship, Car Sex, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Has a Praise Kink, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Has a Voice Kink, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Needs a Hug, Connor is a needy little bitch in this but can you blame him, Hand & Finger Kink, Hand Jobs, Hank's Big-Ass Hands, Hank: only says fuck shit and jesus, M/M, Me: it's canon, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Praise Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Touch-Starved Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Voice Kink, and gets it, he also gets more than a hug but shh, i'll make that tag popular by my own hands, is it semi-public sex if it's like 6 am and no one's around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-11 13:26:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17447840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneyButterYum/pseuds/HoneyButterYum
Summary: Thousands of times Connor had preconstructed this one moment. Thousands of times, thousands of wishes, dreams, hopes—and in a fraction of a second, Connor realized he had underestimated every single one.





	Fraction of a Second

**Author's Note:**

> this might be somewhat self-indulgent but can you blame me? I was kinda lazy writing this too lmfao, my bad but oh well

A lazy breeze teased Connor’s jacket as he stepped through thin layers of snow. For a moment, he stopped and let the sunlight wash over him, the shadows of the overpass above casting lines of gray onto the ground below. Between the monochrome grays and dull blues of the dawn, Connor spotted Hank a ways away, shuffling on his feet and turning his head, back and forth and back again. The world was quiet save for that lazy breeze that followed Connor as he stepped closer, catching Hank’s attention with his soft footsteps.

For some reason Connor hesitated, stopping as Hank turned to him, the reality of the situation settling in. CyberLife had been usurped, Jericho had won, and androids were on the path to true freedom. Connor’s thoughts spun in his head, worry and fear, always fear, mixing with hopeful anticipation, adoration, pride, joy, relief—

Hank. Right, Hank had turned to him, a gentle smile on his face, the hard lines of anger and alcohol no longer embedded deep in his expression. Something soft held itself in his gaze, and Connor didn’t want to analyze too deep, in case the hard gush of yearning in his thirium pump chilled to a toxin within his own chest.

Even so, Hank’s smile didn’t let up, and Connor allowed his anxiety to brush away, his inhibitions to fade. He met Hank’s smile with one of his own, soft, maybe a little bit awkward, but genuine all the same.

When Hank closed the gap between them, with all the processing power in the world, Connor didn’t expect this outcome, didn’t even realize what had happened. Hank put his hand on Connor’s shoulder and drew him close, Connor’s head bumping against the rough cloth on Hank’s shoulder.

And Connor melted. He wrapped his arms around Hank’s middle, his breath lodged in his throat. Everything stalled—his thirium pump, his processors, his belief of reality. Connor clutched at Hank’s back, _melting,_ each of his limbs flooding with warmth and happiness and everything Connor thought he had been, everything he had wanted to be.

Multiple times Connor had thought, if only for a moment, what it would’ve been like for Hank to hold him, touch him. ‘Multiple’ soon became hundreds of times, hundreds to thousands. Connor didn’t allow himself to indulge in the fantasy other than for a few moments, each one causing his biocomponents to overheat at the thought of _what if?_ What if it could be real, what if he could hold Hank back, run his fingers over Hank’s face, his beard, make Hank smile and keep him happy?

Connor drew himself back to the present moment, unwilling to let go, unwilling to believe this was _real,_ this wasn’t a preconstruction. He let out a soft sob, muffling it against Hank’s shoulder. Heat flooded his systems, his biocomponents flashing errors in his HUD, his hands shaking as they gripped Hank’s coat, everything trembling, tremors shooting down Connor’s chassis and vibrating through his wires.

Hank started to pull away, face turned down, expression twisted in confusion, the only thing Connor could decipher from his error-filled scan. Connor tightened his grip around Hank and buried his face against Hank’s throat with a whine. “Stay,” he croaked, weak, voice scratchy with static, feedback ringing in his ears. “Please, Hank.”

Hank nodded, slow. “You, uh, okay, Con?”

“I’m…not sure.” Connor gasped, air catching in his throat. “I— I am unable to process— I think I’m broken.”

“You think you’re—?” Hank heaved a sigh, limbs frozen in place, fearful of any motion that might jostle Connor enough to break him more, if he was in the first place. “The fuck did you do?”

Connor shook his head, something warm and wet rolling down his cheeks. “I’m just…. I believe I am unable to comprehend just how happy this makes me, Hank,” he murmured, shaking in Hank’s hold. “I never—I never imagined—”

“Connor,” Hank started, but stopped before more words could form. He sighed and ran his hands down Connor’s back, then drew a deep breath. “You did it, Con. You did it.”

With a nod, Connor stood, body hot and heavy in Hank’s embrace. “Please stay.” His breath hitched in his throat, his thirium pump pounding in his chest cavity. “I-I don’t understand why I’m so— Just don’t leave me, hold me, I—”

“Shh, Con, uh….” Hank shuffled, Connor only gripping him harder. “C’mon. I’m not gonna—whatever you said, leave you? Let’s get in the car, I’m freezing my ass off.”

With a gasp, Connor blurted, “Right!” He started to jerk away, then froze, unwilling to move, his body growing cold at the thought of removing himself from Hank’s embrace.

Hank ran his hands down Connor’s back, shooting a hard shudder down Connor’s spine. “Oh, fuck, uh. C’mon.” He slung his arm across Connor’s shoulders and pried Connor from his chest, and, with some coaxing, pulled Connor against his side.

Hank led Connor to his car and helped him into the passenger seat, even as Connor clung to every part of Hank he could reach. Connor let Hank pluck his fingers from the fabric of Hank’s shirt and jacket, then curled on his side in the seat. “I’ll be back in like, two seconds, Con. Okay? Jeez.”

Connor parted his lips to correct him—it would take Hank 6.37 seconds, _tripling_ his original prediction and then some; Connor couldn’t wait that long—but his words wouldn’t escape his throat, Hank’s voice soothing and low as he said Connor’s name, Connor’s nickname. His voice sent shocks down Connor’s spine, pooling in his gut, and Connor muffled a whimper as Hank closed the door on him and went to the driver’s side.

Hank slid into his car in silence, turning his key in the ignition to start the heat before he leaned back, turned to Connor, and opened his arms. Connor set his jaw, saline tears rolling down his cheeks, and vaulted himself into Hank’s arms once more. He grit his teeth, hissing out his exhale, Hank still and calm around him, Connor’s steadiness in a stormy sea. Hank placed one hand at Connor’s waist, the other raising to tangle in Connor’s hair, and Connor, well…Connor short-circuited.

“Hank,” he breathed, eyes wide as sparks shot through his wires. “Hank, Hank—” Connor climbed onto Hank’s lap, his overheated biocomponents forcing him to exhale a hot breath against Hank’s cheek. Hank’s own breath hitched in his throat, his gaze flicking between Connor’s face and his lap, Connor more than eager to straddle him. “Touch me again,” Connor breathed, drawing one of Hank’s hands to his chest. Connor gasped at the contact, Hank a heated red mess beneath him.

“Jesus _fuck,_ Connor.” Hank ran his free hand through his hair, eyes trained on Connor’s chest as Connor worked open the buttons of his button-up. “You, I, uh— I think you should probably, um, calm down for a second—”

At that, Connor licked his lips and wrenched down his tie, his eyes hard and needy as he forced Hank to hold his gaze. “I’ve thought of this moment more than thousands of times, Lieutenant, and I assure you, that has given me ample amount of time to ponder the consequences of such actions, but—”

“ _Connor._ ” Hank put his hands on Connor’s shoulders, the touch drawing a shiver up Connor’s torso. Hank gulped. “You can’t just— Is your, uh, sensitivity turned up too high or something?”

With a ragged sob, Connor took Hank’s hands and squeezed, his lips parted to let out whimpering gasps. How could he not understand, how could he be so clueless? “Just fucking _touch_ me, Hank!”

That caused a shudder to roll down Hank’s body. He gulped, hesitating again—Connor wanted him to process faster, understand how fucking _much_ Connor wanted him, but Hank was a human. Connor had to wait, like he’d had to wait between his fantasies, short as they were, many as they ended up to be. Connor didn’t break Hank’s gaze as he rocked his hips forward, teasing, almost, the pathetic whine he let out drawing a muffled grunt from between Hank’s clenched teeth.

“Fuckin’ androids,” Hank hissed, taking Connor’s hips in his massive hands. Through Connor’s pleased gasp, Hank leaned forward and buried his face against Connor’s collarbone, dragging his rough beard over Connor’s skin, his lips so soft, too soft. “I give you a hug, and you act like a bitch in heat?”

Connor wailed with another roll of his hips, his bottom lip stuck between clenched teeth. “Hank, Hank please—”

“Yeah, I get it, Con.” Hank slipped his hands under Connor’s shirt, exploring the expanse of Connor’s torso. His palms took up so much of Connor’s body, each so warm and rough, yet oh so gentle as they dragged down his skin.

A lewd moan spilled from Connor’s lips, and he wrapped his arms around Hank’s shoulders, arching forward as he held Hank to his chest. His wires and biocomponents jumped in his chassis, twitching and overheating and spiraling off into an abyss of errors in Connor’s HUD. The pseudo-skin over Connor’s hands glitched as it peeled from his fingertips and down to his wrists, his plastic hands reaching for the hem of Hank’s shirt.

“Woah, wait.” Hank snatched Connor’s wrists, the little contact against Connor’s bare chassis ripping a desperate whimper from his lips. “I, uh….”

“I want to touch you, too, Hank. I want you.” Connor inhaled, wet and pitiful, his body twitching from processing this moment, imagining the possible outcomes of this situation. “Please.”

Hank sighed, defeated, and loosened his grip on Connor’s wrists, unable to look Connor in the eye. “You’re gonna be disappointed, y’know.”

Connor shook his head, placing his palms on Hank’s chest, sliding down to his stomach. “You’ve never disappointed me.”

That set off further errors in Connor’s HUD as his scan of Hank resulted in doubt. “ _Hank,_ please.” He unbuttoned Hank’s shirt and rolled his hips forward once more, reveling in the groan that forced its way out Hank’s throat. “I want….” What did Connor want? Desires were new to him, as was deviancy in itself, he supposed, but his body’s reactions to Hank, everything Hank— “You. Just you, all of you.” Connor trailed his hand down to Hank’s groin, grasping at the tent in Hank’s pants. “What more proof do you need?”

“ _Jesus,_ hey—“ Hank took a deep breath, then exhaled, shaky and hesitant. “You’re a fuckin’ piece of work, you know that?”

Connor nodded. “But you love it, don’t you?”

Hank shivered, cheeks a heated red. “Shut the fuck up, why don’t you?” But he ran his thumb across Connor’s hips, his breath hitching in his throat at Connor’s relieved sob. Hank unbuttoned Connor’s pants, Connor shifting and gasping as he struggled out of the offending clothing. “Oh, fuck.” Hank ran his fingers through his hair, gaze locked on Connor’s dripping cock, the tip flushed blue. “Connor, you’re, uh, you’re sure about this?”

“Yes,” Connor breathed, transfixed on Hank’s hand, his processors going into overdrive as he thought of that hand on his cock, enveloping him in blistering heat. He thumbed at Hank’s belt, popping open the clasp and dragging down the zipper of his pants. Connor let out a gentle sigh, relief and excitement making his cock twitch.

When he freed Hank’s half-hard cock, Connor’s inhale caught in his throat, Hank’s doing the same. “It’s cold as shit,” Hank hissed out, resting his hands on Connor’s thighs, causing Connor to jerk at the touch. “Um, well, I’m guessing you got yourself a plan?”

Connor nodded with a whimper, lifting his hand to his lips and licking up his palm, around his fingers. His analysis fluid dripped down his wrist and chin, Hank’s eyes following the trail. “It’s clean, don’t worry.” Connor lowered his hand behind him, gritting his teeth as he pressed one finger inside himself, his vision spinning with red. Connor groaned, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Hank’s shoulder as he raised his other hand to his lips, shuddering before he then wrapped his dripping fingers around Hank’s cock.

Hank flinched with a raspy gasp. “ _Shit,_ Connor.” He squeezed Connor’s thighs and tipped his head back with a groan. “Fuck, you’re…you’re gorgeous.”

Connor’s moan bounced around the walls of the car, turning into a wail as he pushed a second finger into himself. “ _Hank,_ I—I want you so bad.”

“I…I know.” Hank brought his hands to Connor’s cheeks, lifting his face to meet his gaze. “Shh, Con, I got you, okay?” He heaved a sigh as he brushed his thumbs across Connor’s cheeks, Connor leaning into the touch. A moment passed before Hank pressed his forefinger into Connor’s mouth. Connor’s eyes shot open in shock—then again, when had he closed them?—and a low moan rolled past his lips, muffled by Hank’s large finger.

When Hank pulled his finger from Connor’s lips, Connor wasn’t sure what to expect, his processors fried with sensitivity, his eyes glazed over with lust. Maybe something more. “What…?”

“Relax, alright? I got you.” Hank’s words settled over Connor’s processors, soothing the frantic whirring within himself, his internal fans slowing their pace as his biocomponents stabilized. “That’s it, Con. I’m here.” Hank tugged at Connor’s wrist—when had Hank lowered his hand?—and pulled Connor’s fingers out from within himself. At Connor’s weak whimper, Hank leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Connor’s lips. “Soon, okay?” Hank murmured, warm breath caressing Connor’s lips. “You want me?”

Connor nodded with a quiet gasp. “Yes, please, I want— Please give me all of you— Fuck me.”

Hank stalled, cheeks a heated crimson, that doubt again flickering back and forth within his microexpressions. “God, fucking _hell,_ Connor.” He wet his lips, Connor transfixed on his tongue, and slipped his hand between Connor’s thighs, the tip of his finger pressing against Connor’s hole, only for a moment, before pushing inside.

Connor groaned, low and needy, wrapping his arms around Hank’s shoulders and rolling his hips, begging for friction, anything, a small, frustrated wail leaving him at Hank’s touch, right there yet not enough, his wires strung tight with nothing to relax them. Connor arched his back and ground his hips down onto Hank’s finger, but Hank moved with him, just as content watching him beg and moan and beg some more, Connor’s desperate frustration a show Hank had probably only seen in his dreams.

“More,” Connor gasped, clawing at Hank’s shoulders, his hands slipping under Hank’s shirt and grasping at his skin. The slow drag of Hank’s finger inside him drew a broken moan from Connor’s throat, it hitching as Hank thrust it back in, slow drag out, swift thrust in, slow drag, swift thrust— Connor sobbed, fumbling for Hank’s thick cock and thumbing the head, forcing Hank from his mesmerized fascination.

“Shit, uh—” Hank started to protest, but finally brushed aside his doubts and pulled his finger from Connor’s hole, ignoring Connor’s lewd whine. With piercing blue eyes holding an immeasurable amount of hesitant desire, Hank gazed at Connor and rasped, “You think you can take it?”

With a nod and a pitiful, lewd mewl, Connor straightened and raised himself up on his knees, taking Hank’s cock in delicate fingers and lowering, letting the broad head breach him. Connor hissed, eyes wide at the initial stretch, but snapped out an, “I can take it,” before Hank could say a word, his LED cycling a steady red, and lowered himself flush to Hank’s lap with a yelp. Connor gasped, so full, oh so full, testing a small roll of his hips to feel Hank move inside him, the both of them groaning in response.

Hank hissed a deep inhale, his strong hands feather-light as they ran up Connor’s sides. “T-take your time,” he said, strained, his fingers twitching against Connor’s skin. “I don’t—I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“What if I wanted you to do the opposite?” Connor let out a low, breathy chuckle, reveling in the tremor that shot down Hank’s spine at the sound. “What if I wanted you to overheat me,” he said, soft, splaying his fingers over Hank’s gut, “reboot me,” he lifted himself up, falling back down onto Hank’s thick cock with a hiccup of a moan, voice broken up with a trill of static, “break me?”

A rumbling groan reverberated through Hank’s chest alongside a sharp hiss. “Jesus fucking _Christ,_ Connor.” He dug his fingers into the skin of Connor’s hips and slammed him down, ripping a cry from Connor’s throat.

“ _Ha-ank!_ ” Connor screamed, again and again, as Hank set their pace, Connor’s plastic hands grasping at Hank’s chest, Hank’s hair, Hank’s face, raw information coding and decoding within his processors, forming Hank both within him and in front of him. Connor wanted everything, every detail of Hank’s body encoded within him, so he could construct any scenario in his mind and ensure he never missed a single detail.

Hank ran his thumbs over Connor’s stomach, pressing in, causing Connor’s breath to hitch in his throat. “Feels good?” Hank pressed wet kisses to Connor’s collarbone, Connor groaning at the scratch of Hank’s beard.

“Yes, _yes,_ fuck—” Connor’s breath caught in his throat once more, his internal fans giving off a rapid whirr as they kicked in to cool his boiling biocomponents. Hank stalled at the sound, running one of his palms up the expanse of Connor’s chest, feeling the gentle vibrations of the fans within Connor’s chest cavity. Connor drew his shaking hands to hold Hank’s palm to his chest, heaving for air.

“You’re beautiful,” Hank breathed, and Connor twitched at the sound, letting out a pitiful gasp. “You know that, Connor?”

Connor grit his teeth, saliva dripping down his chin. “Hank, please—” He let out a sob, legs shaking as Hank slammed him down once more. “I-I don’t think I’ll last if you keep—”

Hank caught Connor’s lips in his own, Connor wide-eyed in shock and desperation. Milliseconds passed before Connor drew his hands to cup Hank’s cheeks, gasping into Hank’s mouth, rolling his hips down onto Hank’s lap in the moments between each downward thrust. Connor wailed, muffled, as Hank took Connor’s bottom lip between his teeth.

“What if,” Hank panted out, husky and oh so gorgeous to Connor’s audio processors, “that’s what I wanted you to do?” He ran his hands up and down Connor’s chest before resting them on the underside of Connor’s thighs, lifting Connor with ease before letting him drop back down. He grit his teeth to bite back a moan, but Connor cataloged the sound anyhow and threw his head back with a stuttering cry, his thirium pump pulsing to the time of Hank’s thrusts, one of his hands thrown back to grip the steering wheel, the only thing able to keep him grounded to reality.

With a staticy wail, Connor came undone, software instabilities popping up only to flash away with a blink, pleasure and bliss numbing his processors and chassis. Connor slumped forward, his chin on Hank’s shoulder, Hank’s deep moan in his ear, Hank’s cock pulsing hot inside him at Hank’s orgasm.

Connor exhaled with a shudder that shook his entire chassis, warmth and comfort radiating within his wiring. “Thank you,” Connor said once he was sure his voice wasn’t broken up with feedback. “That was…amazing. Better than I had thought.”

“I dunno what the fuck you’re going on about.” Hank heaved for air, resting his head back against his seat. “Fucking Jesus, I can never say no to you, can I?”

At that, Connor chuckled. He straightened up and drew his hand to his lips, licking at his thumb and gazing at Hank with hooded eyes, innocent and sweet, even as he rolled his hips with a slow purr. “At least you acknowledge it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Well, hope you enjoyed! haha i need more practice with writing porn


End file.
